A Potion
by LightningsShadow118
Summary: Christmas shopping's never easy, even for wizards.


**~Author's Notes~**

Plotbunny. I don't plan on continuing it. OC warning, but don't knock her until you read her, at least. Enjoy, and please R&R.

**~Author's Notes~**

* * *

Harry knew that finding it would be hard, but he hadn't thought it would be _this_ hard. Honestly, he'd read through book after book, and when that yielded nothing he'd snuck into the Restricted Section. Its name kept popping up now and again, and somewhere in his studies he'd come across a vague description of its purpose, but that was all.

Harry knew it existed. He'd seen it. He'd _smelt_ it firsthand. Surely _someone_ had to know–?

"Harry," Hermione spoke suddenly.

Harry blinked, returning to reality. "Ah– what?"

Ron knocked his friend's shoulder, mouth full of chicken. " 'ou o'ay ma'e?"

"Yeah, I'm fine..." He pushed his peas around his plate. "Just... aggravated."

"Still nothing on the potion?" Hermione sympathized.

"Yeah. It's almost Christmas; I _need_ to find this recipe soon if I'm gonna brew it in time."

Harry put down his fork and rubbed his temple. "I'm starting to wonder..."

"Y'know, Harry," Ron said, swallowing his mouthful. "If it's potions you need, I think I know someone who can help."

"Really?" Potter looked up, absently wondering why his friend had witnessed his struggle for an entire month and was _just now_ deciding to share this.

"I've got a mate in History of Magic — Khen's his name, Ravenclaw — and he's dating this girl. She's one of Snape's top students, according to him; can brew just about anything."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I don't know about that, Ron."

"Well, I'm just saying it can't hurt to ask someone with an 'O' in Snape's class, right?"

Ron had a point; Harry had nothing to lose. "Is she a Ravenclaw, too?"

He shrugged. "Probably. Ask Khen."

"Where can I find him?"

"He's probably on he way to Professor Flitwick's right now. Always skips lunch for tutoring, he told me." Ron shook his head. "Bloody mental, he is."

Harry thanked him and swiftly left the Great Hall.

—\/\/\—/\/\/—

"Oy, Khen?" Harry called down the nearly-empty hallway. The young Vietnamese man turned, clutching a few thick books to his chest.

"Harry Potter?"

Harry caught up to him. "I heard your girlfriend's good with potions?"

Khen nodded. "She's great with them. Why?"

"Do you know where I can find her? There's something I'd like to ask her about."

"Ah, sorry" A dismal smile. "Eli doesn't leave the Common Room much..."

Harry's shoulders dropped. "Oh. Well, when you get the chance can you tell her–"

"I might be able to get you _in,_ though," he offered.

That caught Harry's attention. "What? No; I just meant maybe she could meet me in the—"

Khen shook his head. "Eli spends all her free time in the Common Room with her cauldron. It'll be easier to talk with her there."

"But, what about–"

"I doubt any of us Ravenclaws will mind much." Khen shrugged. "I'm inviting you in, so you should be fine."

It still felt wrong, but, "Alright..."

"I've got a private lesson with Professor Flitwick right now, so can I take you up to our Common Room after that?"

"Er, yeah. Sure."

"Alright then, see you."

Khen disappeared around the corner, leaving Harry uneasy, albeit satisfied.

—\/\/\—/\/\/—

Khen flicked his head back, motioning for Harry to follow, and they made their way up the Ravenclaw Tower.

At the top, they were met by a door bearing an eagle-shaped knocker. Khen cleared his throat, and it spoke.

"What is 'Liquid Luck'?"

Khen answered promptly, "Felix Felicis. It's an advanced potion with a syrupy consistency and is the color of liquid gold."

"Nicely put," the eagle said, and the door swung open.

Harry entered after Khen. He quirked his head. "You know about Felix Felicis?"

"Eli likes to talk," Khen said through a smile. Harry understood and nodded.

Inside the Common Room, Khen put his books up on a shelf with several other stacks that belonged to several other Ravenclaws. He then turned to Harry and motioned to a comfy, royal-blue chair. Harry took the offer.

Khen walked to the base of one spiral staircase. "Eli? Eli, you up there?"

Harry could hear the faint sound of bubbling, but no reply.

Khen sighed. "_Eli!_"

"_Hang - on!_" A low voice shouted.

Khen rolled his eyes, smirking. "Of course."

"Is she... brewing up there?" Harry asked.

"Yeah, but she'll be done soon. No worries."

Minutes passed until the bubbling finally subsided. There was some shifting and clanging, and then a girl Harry assumed was Eli appeared in the doorway and flung herself at the balcony's stone side, leaning a bit too far forward to look at Khen.

"What?" She huffed.

"You got a customer," he motioned to Harry.

She flicked her gaze towards him through the thick, mousy brown hair in her eyes. For a moment it seemed as though she didn't see him. Then, she abruptly darted down the stairway to Khen's side. Once there, she parted the rats' nest on her head and looked at her boyfriend, then over at Potter.

Harry caught his breath, now that he could clearly see her eyes. They were an icy blue and looked unsettlingly bloodshot from where he sat. It was a fresh corpse staring into him, as though it had died looking directly into his mind, expecting him to act.

"Harry Potter?" she asked, to which he stiffly nodded.

"He wants a potion," Khen explained.

"... Potion?" she echoed.

"Yup." He turned to Harry, "Well, I'm off to lunch."

When he left the Common Room, Harry felt suddenly wary. His invitation into the Ravenclaw's territory was gone, and now he was alone with a zombie of a girl who looked like her appetite for brains hadn't been sated in ages. What on Earth did that Khen bloke see in her? No wonder she never left the Common Room. He then realized what he'd just thought and was immediately appalled with himself. What did it matter if she had ghastly-looking skin and wiry, unwashed hair? This girl could help him. Maybe.

She was creepy-looking, though.

Eli shuffled to the chair opposite of him and sat. "You want potions, Mr. Harry?"

"Er, _a_ potion, but, yeah."

"What for?"

"It's a– a gift... for a friend."

She smiled. "Not homework?"

It took him a second to understand what she meant.

"Oh, no. No, I don't do that," he shook his head, lying through his teeth.

She leaned forward, fingertips touching and elbows on her knees. "Good. What'll it be, then?"

Potter explained to her the potion he had been searching for for the past month, and how he hadn't been able to find a recipe for it anywhere in the school. Eli listened patiently, face stone-like and emotionless at first. She seemed to loosen a bit when he finished. Maybe because they were talking about something she knew well.

"I know of the potion. Made in Germany. It's also known as the Essence of the Friedvollen Geist. Essence of the Peaceful Mind."

A thin eyebrow arched. "Stressed, Mr. Harry?"

"Well, not really, but it's not for me," Potter answered.

Her brow fell again. "Oh. That's right."

When it became apparent that she wasn't going to continue, Harry spoke.

"So... do you know how to brew it?"

She leered into him with those bloodshot-blue eyes again. Harry felt like a snowball had been shoved down the back of his shirt.

"If I knew the recipe for the potion that could rid a mind of all stress and worry, my face would be on a wizard card and I wouldn't still be in Hogwarts, Mr. Harry."

Harry's heart sank. He should've known. If the textbooks didn't even know, then how could a student?

"But, I could try making something close, if you like?"

"What? Oh, well, thank you, but I just wanted a recipe. You don't have to make it for me."

"No, no. It will be complex, and you couldn't be done by Christmas, assuming it's a present."

"What do you mean?"

"Recipes take weeks to perfect. Christmas is here in two. If I brew as I record, then I'll have a recipe and a potion done at once. If I just record the recipe and then give it to you, Christmas comes, here it is, and then it's gone. No potion. Better if I make it for you."

Harry blinked. "You—wait a minute. You saying you want to _create_ a potion for me?"

"You say it like it can't be done. New potions are made every day, everywhere. It's an art, you know. Just because they don't make it into the school textbooks doesn't mean they're useless."

"Well, well, I mean, I guess, yeah, but... I didn't know that's how it worked."

Eli smiled, and there was something genuine in it. "I guessed. Now, what is this potion supposed to do for your friend, Mr. Harry; eliminate stress, sorrow, and worry, or is it meant to bring peace and euphoria?"

"The latter."

"Ah, good. This may be easy then. Stirring up emotions is much easier than silencing them. I'll look into finding the ingredients today. I'll have Khen find you when I finish it."

"Thanks, Eli. Thanks a lot."

"My pleasure. Oh, and I apologize for the tossed-up visage. I'm afraid I got a bit carried away with my latest potion-in-progress and... well, as you can see, the result was a bit off-kilter."

"Oh, yeah? Heh," Harry chuckled, avoiding eye contact. What a relief.

"You thought I always looked this way?" Her amusement was in her voice. "It's not terribly far from my usual style, but I can promise you, my hair's _never_ this unkempt."

Harry thought she was joking, but that last statement was spoken in earnest.


End file.
